


It Changes

by IAmAshamedOfMyFanfics (faraandmera)



Series: Demigod7 AU [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Demigod AU, M/M, its a rewrite but the original was never posted to ao3, mostly friendship but romance does happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8365849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faraandmera/pseuds/IAmAshamedOfMyFanfics
Summary: When Youngjae is told he’s the son of Helen of Troy, he’s not sure if he has a harder time believing it’s possible in general, or that he of all people is. New friends and time may make it easier to accept, though.





	1. Reveal and Start

**Author's Note:**

> This a rewrite of the youngjae demi-god fic (iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/118351607505/) that I wrote over the course of a year. (may 2015 to may 2016). This wont take nearly that long, though, since the plot is the same. it’s mostly wording and a few lines of dialogue that are different, but this version is much better than the original.
> 
> TUMBLR VERSION: http://iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/152231095845/

Youngjae never thought of himself particularly attractive. Not that he thought of himself as unattractive, either, but he didn’t view himself as someone others would find attractive. Part of it might have just been a childhood filled with shows in which huge glasses and a want to learn were the signs of being someone others wouldn’t like the looks of. Always the before in before-and-after pictures.

(It wasn’t like he could help he had such poor eye sight. Nor did he think it was bad that that he liked getting good grades, and even found himself learning more about subjects than was strictly necessary. Though that only happened with subjects he was really fond of, like mythology.)

So of course he would be surprised, and disbelieving, when his mother told him he was the son of the ‘most beautiful woman in the world’. Or, the mythological figure noted as such. Helen of Troy.

A scoff left him when she said as much. How could that possibly be? A frown etched onto his face, he stared his mother down. How could he be the son of a mythological figure? Let alone one noted for her beauty? How could the awkwardness of Choi Youngjae have come from that? The myth wasn’t even Korean. At the very least he _might_ have accepted it if she had been.

“Youngjae,” His mother’s- or, apparently adopted mother’s- voice is soft, sad. “I’m telling you the truth. I- You’re being sent to a school for people like you.”

“People like me?” The wording felt… wrong. Like there was something wrong with him. “What does that mean? Why would you do this?”

How could she do this to him all of the sudden?

“Youngjae, I know this is hard to believe-”

“Impossible more like!” Youngjae would usually feel bad for cutting her off, but he’s upset, and can’t bring himself to feel anything other than that. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe _this_.”

He doesn’t, either. Even as he’s forced into the car, alongside his belongings. Even as he’s driven far from the city he’s lived and grown up in. Even as he’s walked into one of a few large buildings, surrounded by a a fence and a sign announcing it’s a school for ‘special’ people. Even as he’s shown the schools dorms- or one dorm building at least- he doesn’t believe it.

Until a real, living centaur is feet away from him.

“What the fuck.” Youngjae usually doesn’t make an effort to swear, but he wants his surprise to be very clear.

“Youngjae,” His mother says, immediately, scolding halfheartedly.

“You- what is- is this-” Words fumbles, falling from his mouth before he thinks of them. “Have I been drugged or something?”

“Is he,” A man speaks to Youngjae’s mother, “Still having trouble accepting who he is?”

“Seem so,” A sigh, “sorry. You’ll take good care of him, right?”

“Of course.”

“No- what- really what is this?” Youngjae’s confusion goes ignored, for the moment.

 

“Helen of Troy was supposed to be really beautiful,” Yongjae mumbles to himself, staring up at the ceiling of his dorm. His mother- adopted mother, he reminds himself again- had left already. Youngjae isn’t sure if he’s really upset about that, or if he’s upset at her for waiting until now to tell him. The whole situation is hard to process, especially who his real mother is supposed to be. “There’s no way, of anyone, I’m her son.”

The door to his dorm opens, a sigh following from whoever opened the door. Leaning over the railing next to his bed- there to keep him from falling from the upper level of the dorm, onto the lower section- to see who it is. Youngjae can’t see much, brown hair and hidden face, but Youngjae is pretty sure the person is his roommate.

“Um,” Youngjae clears his throat, drawing their attention, “excuse me?”

“Who are you?” They- he, in all likelihood, since the dorms aren’t co-ed- looks up, confusion etched onto their face. Or, it seems that way from what little Youngjae can see. “And why are you in my dorm?”

“I-I live here now.” Youngjae mentally curses the nervousness in his voice. Talking to people was never really his strongest suit. “I’m Youngjae.”

“Oh,” He hums in acknowledgment, realization crossing his face. Nodding, he offers a small smile. “I’m Mark.”

Finally fully facing Youngjae, Mark’s face becomes visible enough for Youngjae to get a good look at it. His face is slightly long- though not overly so- and is fitting to the rest of his stature.

“Nice to meet you.” Youngjae returns the smile.

“Yeah.”

Not much else is said. It was late, sun having set not long after Youngjae arrived, and the whole days events left Youngjae exhausted. It wasn’t long before he had fallen asleep with thoughts of how unbelievably strange the whole thing was.

 

As it turns out, even though it’s a school for the children of mythical figures- Youngjae is reluctant to call them demigods, still trying to get used to the idea- they still had normal school classes. Math, Science, even History.

Though, history classes for students at the school was different from normal schools. Focus was put entirely on mythology. Students should learn about their parents, was the thought, so they would learn about them and the myths surrounding them. Seating in history classes, even, is decided by which demigod one’s parent is.

Which is a problem when Youngjae is the only son- at the very least, the only one in his class, he hasn’t been around long enough to know if he is in general- of Helen of Troy.

“Where should we place you?” The man from the day before, who had spoken to his mother, is the teacher. His face is square and showing the signs of age, Youngjae notes. He hadn’t really paid him any attention before, being overwhelmed with other things.

“Just put him with Aphordite’s kids,” Says someone in the back of the room.

“What?’ Youngjae glances in their general direction, unsure who specifically said it, then back at the teacher.

“Ah that makes sense,” he hums, pointing to one side of the room. “That group there.”

“But I’m-”

“Or we can put you by yourself.” Youngjae can’t argue any further, so he frowns and walks to the right side of the room, finding a place in the back of the group of students. It isn’t until halfway through the class- when they’re given freedom to work together- that anyone speaks to him.

“Hi,” One of the boys, sitting in front and to the right of Youngjae, grins. He’s got blonde hair, the dye fading, and a wide smile. Next to him, directly in front of Youngjae, is the only familiar face in the room, excluding their teacher, Mark. “I’m Jackson.”

“Youngjae. It’s nice to meet you.”

“And this-”

“We’ve met,” Mark cuts Jackson off- just has Jackson is lifting his hands to motion towards Mark- and shakes his head. “We’re sharing a dorm.”

“You are?! You didn’t tell me you had a new dorm mate!” Jackson mocks offense. It’s barely a second later before that guise falls and he’s smiling again and turning to Youngjae. “Who’s your parent? It’s rare someone is the only kid of their parent.”

“O-Oh right…” Youngjae stumbles over his words, surprised. He’d almost forgotten- in fact, kept almost forgetting- why he was here in the first place. Maybe he was trying to forget, so he didn’t have to think about how much of his life he was lied to. “Helen of Troy.”

“Who?”

“The ‘most beautiful woman in the world,’” Mark informs. “I can’t remember how Aphrodite felt about her, but I’d bet it wasn’t positive.”

“How’d you know that?”

“We learned about her like, a month ago Jackson.”

Their conversation strays away from the history they’re meant to be studying, but Youngjae can’t help but smile. It was easy enough to think he might have just made friends.

 

Physical education was not something Youngjae was fond of, really. Why was it required, again? Youngjae wonders if anyone actually likes running laps, before he thinks that maybe those who are good at it do.

“This isn’t fair,” Youngjae groans, slowing his pace to a walk around the track. His legs ache, but he can be glad that at least running laps was all he had to do. “If they gain traits from their ‘god parents’ then Athena’s kids are at an advantage, aren’t they?”

“Are we?” Youngjae jumps at the voice. Being that he was muttering to himself, he hadn’t expected any sort of reaction or reply.

“Uh, I mean-”

“No, you’re right,” The person cuts him off, shrugging. Youngjae is just glad he doesn’t have to think of an excuse for his words. Then again, he isn’t sure he should need to excuse them or why he feels like he might have. “Doesn’t mean we have to like laps either.”

“Sorry.”

They wave off his apology, stopping their awkward jog and walking next to him. “I’m Yugyeom, by the way. But seriously though, you’re right. Lots of classes are better for a few groups of students than they are for the rest.”

“But you don’t like it? This class I mean.”

“Maybe I’m not really Athena’s kid. I hate this and most strength related classes. I mean… they only physical activity I can tolerate is dancing.” Youngjae laughs when Yugyeom shrugs.

“She was also the goddess of wisdom, maybe you got that from her,” Youngjae offers.

“Maybe.” Yugyeom shrugs. “You know you didn’t give me your name.”

“Youngjae.” Youngjae holds out his hand, and Yugyeom shakes it.

“YOU TWO START RUNNING!”

“Looks like we have to run,” Yugyeom sighs, sharing a look with Youngjae before taking off in a run again. Youngjae follows, though much slower. He tells himself it’s because Yugyeom has longer legs. Yeah, that’s it.

 

Youngjae is pretty sure he’s lost. If ‘pretty sure’ means certain. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he might have managed to wonder out of the country, though the ever present blue of the buildings around him reminds him he’s still on school grounds. Classes for the day finished, Youngjae had been trying to return to his dorm without help. Yet here he was, on the wrong side of the school for all he knew.

“I’m telling you, if you tell people your dad is the god of death they’re going to think of Hades. How many years will it take for you to realize this?” Youngjae recognizes the voice, vaguely.

“Just because you’re dumb doesn’t mean everyone else is, Yugyeom.” There’s a muttered ‘rude,’ and a laugh comes from the second voice, which Youngjae doesn’t recognize. “Just some people.”

“I’m not dumb! You take that back.”

“I’ll take it back when you say my name properly.”

“I _can_ say your name.”

“Um,” Youngjae turns the corner and is met with Yugyeom and another person who he doesn’t know. The two are walking in his direction, so it’s easy to get their attention. “Excuse me.”

“Youngjae!” Yugyeom waves, smiling. “Hey.”

“Hi, Yugyeom.” Youngjae returns the smile. “Um, actually, I was wondering… if you could tell me where my dorm is? I’m lost.”

“Which dorms are you in?”

“C building?”

“Oh. This one is in C building, too, he can take you. My dorm is in almost the exact opposite direction.”

“This one?” There’s an offended tone to the others voice, and it’s reflected on his face. “This kid.”

“We’re the same age.”

“Anyway,” Yugyeom’s comment goes ignored, “I can help you to C building. Just follow me.”

Youngjae isn’t given a chance to respond, the other walking away. Youngjae waves to Yugyeom as he follows. “Bye Yugyeom.” Then he turns to the other. “Um, your name…”

“Kunpimook Bhuwakul.”

“Kunpimook… I don’t think I’m confident enough that I can say your name properly.”

“Well, you tried,” Kunpimook laughs, though seems somewhat disappointed. “You can call me Bambam then.”

“That I can do.” Youngjae nods.

 

“You’re lucky,” Mark says, as he and Youngjae make their way to the other side of the school grounds from the dorms. There sit the buildings where food is. “You came around right before the weekend. Only one day of classes to start with.”

“Yeah,” Youngjae shrugs, smiling. He doesn’t know if it’s such a big deal, but he certainly isn’t unhappy with it. “I guess so. The less running I have to do the better.”

“That’s right, it’s your first year, huh. You can’t petition to get out of that.”

“Wait, you can do that?”

“Once you’ve had at least a year of schooling here, yeah.”

“This year couldn’t go by fast enough.”

“Right,” Mark nods. There’s a short pause, before he points in the direction of a group of buildings. Youngjae had been to the first one the day before, where his teachers had explained how the distribution of food worked, and left him to his own devices. “You were here yesterday, but there are the food-giving buildings. There are a few, obviously, but the easiest to actually get through is the third.”

“’Food-giving’?”

“Yugyeom- oh, another first year’s words.”

“Yugyeom does seem the type, somehow.”

“You met?”

“Yep. We have P.E. together.” Youngjae nods. “Oh, I also met Bambam, who I’m guessing you also know?”

“Yeah.” Mark laughs, nodding. “You’ll see both of them then. They, Jackson, Myself, and two other pretty much always eat together. Unless Jackson and Bam decide to make a weird bet or something…”

“Do… I want to ask?”

“Probably not.”

 

“All I’m saying is that music is listened way before the sun. Like, the sun isn’t even the most important? Just because that’s all people remember doesn’t make it important.”

“At least people know Apollo exists.” Though Youngjae doesn’t recognize the first voice, he knows the second is Kunpimook. “So many people only know Thanatos from video games, as the reaper or something. And when I mention death they’re like ‘oh Hades’. It’s the worst!”

“I mean, people don’t assume things about you, at least?” Another voice that Youngjae doesn’t recognize speaks. “Like people assume I’m war happy because of Athena, but she was also the goddess of peace!”

“And wisdom,” Yugyeom adds.

“Guys,” Jackson laughs, “who cares?”

“Them, apparently,” Mark says, as they approach the group. No one looks up, the owners of the unfamiliar voices stay facing with their backs to Youngjae. Mark sits next to Jackson, shaking his head. “You know, like always.”

“Hey,” The first voice speaks again. “I had a good reason to bring it up today.”

“Someone question you about your authority on music?”

“Maybe.”

“I will continue to be upset until someone doesn’t need me to tell them who Thanatos is,” Kunpimook adds, holding up a hand so they acknowledge that he’s spoken.

“The personification of death.” Youngjae finally speaks, making the two unfamiliar people jump and turn around to face him. “Odd, I wouldn’t have thought any of those kind of gods would have kids.”

“Youngjae! You’re my new best friend.” Bambam nods, as if to finalize the decision.

“Hey!” Jackson and Yugyeom both protest at the same time. They pause, face each other, and halfheartedly glare.

“So, introductions?” The first voice- and the person attached to it- speaks again, bringing their attention back to Youngjae with a motion. “I’m Jaebum.”

“Jinyoung,” The second person adds, “Athena’s most peaceful kid.”

“You are not,” Yugyeom mutters, and goes ignored.

“Youngjae.” He laughs, and sits down next to Mark- and Jaebum- when he’s motioned to.

“Ah, you’re the one Jackson mentioned. Helen of Troys one and only son, or kid in general, right?” Jinyoung asks, though it comes out more like a statement.

“It’s like I don’t exist to you,” Yugyeom mutters, realizing his last muttering went ignored. (There’s a laughed ‘it’s okay we still love you’ from Bambam, and a pat on the shoulder.)

“Huh-” Youngjae stops for a moment, before nodding. “Oh, yeah, right. I’m her son.” It was still a hard fact to accept.

“Jaebum,” Jinyoung motions towards Jaebum, who’s mouth is open like he was about to speak, “Is Apollo’s kid.”

“I was-” A sigh- “I’m right here.”

“Yeah, but you take forever to say simple things, old man.”

“I’m not old!”

Youngjae laughs, while those two continue that train of conversation. Somehow, he feels really comfortable sitting there, between all of their conversations. He’s not used to so quickly being comfortable with people, yet he finds himself smiling and even managing to join into some of their talking.


	2. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr version: http://iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/152231656075/

Youngjae is all but blind without his glasses. Hence why he was upset enough that he needed to hold himself back from jumping at the kid who soccer-balled him in the face, causing them to break. Also, hence why trying to navigate his way to the upper level- his part- of his dorm had him falling up the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks, when he finds Youngjae lying face-down on the stairs.

“Perfect. Can’t you tell?”

“Not really,” Mark laughs, approaching the stairs. He looks past the stair railing, down at Youngjae. “Need any help?”

“I don’t think there’s much you can do to help. Unless you have glasses I can borrow, which I doubt.”

“Sorry, I don’t. Depending on your prescription Jaebum might, though. He hardly wears them anymore, but his are probably still around somewhere.”

On Tuesdays, Youngjae’s schedule is different than Friday. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday’s are the same, while Tuesdays, Thursdays, and some Saturday’s had the other version of Youngjae’s schedule.

Tuesday’s start with gym, then he has study hall. As it turned out, Youngjae shares that period with Jaebum and Jinyoung. Lots of classes didn’t have a specific year to them, study hall being one of them. Skipping study hall wasn’t entirely on purpose, but he had left back to his dorm during gym, and had still been there when second period started.

He also couldn’t see his text books, but that was somewhat beside the point.

“Guess I’m going to study hall, then.” Youngjae pushes himself off the stairs, and back down to the lower level- the main section, really- of the dorm. “Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Project. We- well Jackson is- filming. I’m trying to find some supplies we forgot.”

“Ah, I see, okay. I’m off, then.” Youngjae had taken a few careful steps forward, when Mark pointed to Youngjae’s shirt. He’d nearly forgotten, but he’d bled when he got hit in the face. Only a few drops, really, but enough to be noticeable. “It’ll make my excuse for being late more believable.”

“Well.” Mark shrugs, unable to argue with that logic. Youngjae leaves, glad the other reason- that he couldn’t make it up the stairs- wasn’t brought up.

 

As it turns out, walking halfway across the school is quite the challenge when you’ve only been there five days. Even more so when your half-blind. Youngjae manages it, sliding into study hall- literally- just as the bell rings. Youngjae falls onto his side, groaning, but goes mostly ignored.

“As impressive as that was, couldn’t you have waited outside?” Jinyoung’s voice draws Youngjae to look up, to where he and Jaebum stand looking down at Youngjae. Jaebum offers him a hand- which he takes- up. Youngjae is glad he didn’t miss his hand, and is pulled to his feet.

“I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“You look horrible.” Jaebum is pretty blunt, but Youngjae is already mostly used to that.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have my glasses. I’ll take your word for it.”

“What’s that about, anyway?” Jinyoung asks, helping when Youngjae attempts to fix his own hair and straighten his clothes out.

“My face saved a goal.”

“Ow.”

“By the way,” Youngjae turns to Jaebum, “Mark said to ask you about glasses.”

“Here.” Jaebum says simply, and hands over his glasses-case. Youngjae hadn’t even noticed him reach for it in the first place.

“We have class in A building, though. So we should really go,” Jinyoung states. They’re halfway out of the door- Jinyoung pushing Jaebum along- when he speaks again. “If they aren’t the same prescription as yours you should just go to the nurse and get excused from classes until you can replace yours.”

 

Youngjae is a lot of things. Farsighted, fond of over-sized sweaters, good at history, and most importantly: lost again. Though unsurprising, Youngjae was a little disappointed in himself. Then again, he could argue, the school grounds were huge. With four dorm buildings, three food buildings, and four school buildings (excluding the gym, which is another building). And that was only including the high-school buildings. A little ways to the west, there’s another group of buildings apparently there for younger students.

When he finally figured out where he was, he was going to use the size of the grounds as an excuse for getting lost again.

Youngjae sighs, glancing around for signs of familiar places on the school grounds. Despite the awkwardness with which the glasses sit on his face, they did in fact help. Either the same prescription, or really close, they helped quite a bit. At least when they stayed on his face.

“Are you… lost again?” Youngjae jumps at the voice, and spins around to be met with Mark’s worried expression.

“Are you skipping class, again?”

“Nope. I wasn’t in the first place, but no, I’m a TA. I find lots of ways to avoid actively being in class rooms most of the time.” Mark holds up a pass, to confirm his story. Youngjae frowns, feeling like that’s unfair, before nodding.

“How’d you know I was lost before?”

“You’ve met Bam and Yugyeom, right? Of course they mentioned it. Besides, this place is huge and you’ve only been here a week.”

“It is pretty big,” Youngjae agrees, then sighs. “So… help?”

“Sure.” Mark motions to the schedule in Youngjae’s hands- he had yet to memorize it- which Youngjae hands over. Youngjae was thankful for his luck, to have met all the nicest people.

 

“I’m going to die.” Kunpimook groans, dropping his face onto a desk.

“You’re the perfect person to,” Youngjae offers without looking up. A whine is given in response.

“Youngjae, help me.”

“Don’t help him. Then he’ll just keep coming back.” Yugyeom dodges a pencil that Kunpimook throws at him for the statement and laughs.

“Is that how you became friends?” Youngjae looks up, finally, and hands his notebook to Kunpimook. “Here. I think I’m okay with today’s lesson.”

“You’re the best Youngjae! Just, the smartest friend I have.”

“I see what I get for helping you through last year.” Yugyeom leans back in his seat, looking over at the book Youngjae had been reading, then turns his attention to Youngjae himself. “Are those Jaebum’s?”

It takes a second before Youngjae registers what the question means, before he points to his face. “The glasses? Yeah, mine weren’t salvageable. My replacement pair wont be sent for a while, so…”

“They suit you,” Kunpimook says, idly, as he copies Youngjae’s notes.

“Oh, thanks?”

“I’m surprised you convinced him to give them over. Did you bribe him?”

“He just… handed them over though?”

“What? He wouldn’t even let me look at them!” Kunpimook looks up to purposefully display a hurt expression, before returning to the notes.

“Yeah… I wonder why.” Yugyeom breaths out through his nose, holding back laughter, and grins at Youngjae.

“I wouldn’t have either.” Youngjae nods.

“I can hear you.” Kunpimook frowns at them.

 

History is Youngjae’s last class on Tuesday’s, so he finds himself sitting with Aphordite’s kids, yet again. Exhaustion from the day makes it hard to stay awake, but Mark and Jackson take turns poking him so he doesn’t. If he wasn’t so thankful, he would have been irritated. When free work time comes, and they’re allowed to talk, it’s sudden conversation that startles Youngjae into awareness.

“Wow,” Jackson says, leaning around to get a better look at Youngjae, “you really look like you’re gonna crash.”

“I’ve run across this school like, three times today. That’s not even counting the usual walking between classes. Of course I am.”

“Think you can make it up the stairs this time?” Mark doesn’t even turn around, which makes it all the worse, Youngjae thinks.

“And maybe toss you down them, while I’m at it.”

“No,” Mark gasps, spinning around. “I’m fragile.”

“That’s a lie,” Jackson chimes in. “He’s the one who jumped down the stairs last year because it was faster.”

“It wasn’t even a floor. It’s not like it was that far.”

“Still. Stairs exist for a reason.”

“You did it too,” Mark points out, while actually pointing at Jackson.

“I know what I did…”

“So, what you’re saying is: push Mark down the stairs. Got it.” Youngjae only grins when Mark glares.

“Exactly.”

“Youngjae no,” Mark makes a serous expression. “Don’t listen to Jackson, of all people.”

“’Of all people’? What does that mean?”

“Yeah, of all people. He’s dumb.” Mark nods.

“Excuse me?! I’m still right here.” Jackson shrinks into his seat, when his volume draws attention.

“But isn’t that true for both of you?” Youngjae tries really hard to keep himself from laughing at their offended expressions.

“Uncalled for,” Mark mutters, but his words hold no real weight.

 

When he finally makes it back to his dorm, Youngjae briefly considers stealing Marks’ bed, the stairs too intimidating, before thinking better of it. They’re not exactly best friends just yet and that would be a little rude. When Youngjae get’s thinking about friends, he reaches up to his face and takes the glasses off, setting them aside on his bedside table. He has to be careful with them, he thinks, since they aren’t his.

Though Youngjae can’t say his first week or so wasn’t exciting, he sort of hope things will calm down from here on out. As much fun as he’s had- and, really, it was the most fun he’d had in years- he doesn’t know that he can take more getting lost or hurt.


	3. Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr version: iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/152240959445/
> 
> I couldn't think of a title for this chapter

Being at the school for a few weeks now, Youngjae has gotten used to the size of the school, and learned his way around. He’s gotten accustomed to living there instead of in his old home. Youngjae also received his new glasses, and returned Jaebum’s to him.

Saturday’s when they didn’t have a normal schedule meant competitions. Youngjae had been lucky enough to arrive right before one of those his first week, and had been excused from dealing with it at all, but in the weeks following he had to attend them, despite not taking part. Since competitions were between the children of any given parent, and he was the only child of Helen of Troy, he was left to sit on the side lines.

Though he didn’t mind being excused from it, he didn’t see the point in the competitions. Still, he sat to the side- along with Kunpimook- watching his friends and other students compete.

“So here’s a question,” Youngjae starts and turns to face Kunpimook. Kunpimook pause taking pictures of their friends- that Youngjae guesses aren’t flattering- to face Youngjae. “Who do you route for?”

“Huh? Oh, since they’re separated, right. Whoever’s winning.”

“So Loyal,” Youngjae jokes, pretending to be impressed. A pout is given in response, and that makes Youngjae laugh.

“Better than choosing sides for real.” He shrugs. “Why? Who are you going to route for then?”

“No one?” Youngjae tilts his head.

“See!” Kunpimook points at Youngjae to emphasize his exclamation. “It’s like… do you route for Jinyoung and Yugyeom? Mark and Jackson? Jaebum? Choices, choices. No matter which you’re wrong and someone will feel bad.”

“I see your point.”

Halfway through the day, the results of the day are collected and everyone is dismissed, given freedom for the rest of the day. Everyone gathers together for lunch, discussion about the competitions falling from their mouths.

“I can’t believe we lost that last one!” Jinyoung shakes his head and heaves and over-dramatic sigh.

“You’d think you’d have an advantage since Yugyeom is a giant.” Jackson pats Yugyeom’s shoulder as he mentions him.

“You’re just short.” Yugyeom argues, leaning away when Jackson glares.

“You wanna fight?!”

“Not at the table!” Jinyoung holds his arms out above the food, defending it in the chance they decide to throw it.

“Yeah, listen to your mother,” Youngjae mumbles out between bites of his own food. Jinyoung and Jaebum are the only ones who seem to hear him.

“I’m not their mother!” Jinyoung argues, drawing the rest of their attention. Though he made it out of annoyance, all his argument does it let everyone know of the comment.

“Thanks for bringing that one back,” Jaebum laughs, speaking only to Youngjae, since the others are arguing about the reality of the joke.

“Back? So he’s always been the mom?”

“Pretty much.” Jaebum grins, amused, and uses the chance to steal food while everyone is distracted. “But that’s pretty obvious, right?”

“You’re not wrong.” Youngjae follows his lead, stealing food too.

“Where did my food go?” Mark is the one to notice, turning his attention to the culprits. Both glance at each other, then shrug in feigned innocence.

“Who knows?” Youngjae.

“Did you eat it?” Jaebum.

“I’m telling mom,” Mark threatens, eyes narrowing. Jinyoung makes a distraught noise and stands from the table, storming away purposefully. Yugyeom and Kunpimook laugh, following him out of the building. “I almost feel bad.”

“I don’t,” Jaebum offers the statement as if it will somehow be comforting.

“Do you ever?” Jackson asks between distributing the now-missing member food to the rest of them.

“What? Of course. I’m not completely heartless.” Jaebum holds a hand over his heart, as if that somehow proves it and for effect.

“What a twist.” Jackson’s statement receives a none-too-flattering snort from Youngjae, who has to cover his mouth to keep for expelling his drink from his mouth. “You okay there?”

“I’m great,” Youngjae chokes out and clears his throat.

“Don’t die.” Jaebum makes an effort to sound as unconcerned as possible.

“If you do we’ll sacrifice Jaebum to get you back.” Jackson dodges a plastic spoon aimed for his head and grins. Youngjae laughs, wondering if every conversation went like this with them. Every one he’d been a part of thus far had been, so he figures that’s probably the case. For some reason it makes him really happy; to that he’s a part of it.

 

If there was one thing Youngjae wasn’t used to- and one thing he didn’t think he would ever be- it was being stared at. Though it wasn’t as if he’d never been stared at before, it was overwhelming when the expected stares continued after he thought the ‘new student’ phase would have at least partially passed.

Since it’s been a few weeks, he starts to wonder why people are still starring at him.

“Do they ever stop?” His words come out under his breath, muttered into the book he’s pretending to read at dinner, later that day.

“Staring?” Mark asks, turning his attention to Youngjae.

“Yeah.”

“Probably not, no. Those of us with parents who drew attention usually end up getting stared at, so it’ll probably be the same for you.”

“Isn’t that… annoying?”

“It’s why I hang out with Jackson. He shows off for attention all on his own, so I don’t have to do anything.”

“Hey!” Jackson turns from his conversation with Jinyoung- who laughs- so he can make an offended expression. It doesn’t last long and he faces Jinyoung and continues talking as if nothing had happened.

“If it bothers you, you can always try telling them to stop.”

“No.” Youngjae leaves no room for argument, and drops his book onto the table and his face into the book. “Talking to strangers isn’t my strong suit. This situation especially would be awkward.”

“Well,” Mark shrugs, “that’s all I’ve got.”

“Can I borrow Jackson for-like-ever.”

“No way. Find your own friend to use.”

“Rude. Aren’t we friends?”

“Debatable.” Youngjae looks up, makes his expression hurt, and clutches his chest at the statement.

“You’re our friend,” Jinyoung offers from the other side of the table. “Like a brother to me already.”

“Being your brother isn’t really a good thing,” Yugyeom says. In return Jinyoung smacks his arm.

“I’m a great brother.”

“To who? Not me, for sure.”

“You listen here kid-”

“Oh you made mom angry,” Jaebum says. He hides his smile by taking a sip of his drink.

“He’s going to hurt you,” Youngjae warns softly. Jaebum just shrugs in return, setting his cup down.

“That’s why I’m on this side of the table.” Jaebum motions to his spot next to Youngjae- and in turn Mark- and thus opposite where Jinyoung, Jackson, and Yugyeom are.

“Really? I figured you just wanted-” Kunpimook flinches as he’s kicked under the table- “Ow, what was that for?! Why are we friends?”

“Convenience?” Youngjae offers.

“No, that’s us,” Mark adds, motioning vaguely at Youngjae.

“I thought we weren’t friends?”

“No, I just said it was debatable.”

“As- uh- engaging as this conversation is, I have homework to do.” Yugyeom stands from the table. He pulls Kunpimook to stand too. “And so do Bam and Youngjae, not that one of them will do it.”

“I know you mean me and I don’t appreciate it!” Kunpimook willingly follows Yugyeom from the table anyway.

“You leaving too?” Jaebum turns to Youngjae, who just shrugs.

“You already did it, didn’t you?” Mark asks and this time Youngjae nods.

“Nerd.”

“Jackson you finished your work in class too,” Mark reminds him.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t one. Just that he is.”

“I think all of us did,” Jaebum adds, getting nods from Jackson and Mark.

“Yes… all of us.” There’s a pause. “Anyway I should go.” Jinyoung stands and leaves before anyone can say anything else to him.

“Well, most of us.” Mark laughs. After a moment he rests his arms against the table, and his head in them. “So now what?”

“We have tomorrow off, so technically we can do whatever we want- except maybe murder,” Youngjae reminds them. “So I don’t know what they’re so worried about.”

“If they don’t do it now they’ll forget.”

“ _Maybe_ murder,” Jaebum mutters.

 

In the end, they all go to Mark and Youngjae’s dorm. They gather around Jaebum’s laptop- being that he was the only one who had one- in order to watch movies per Jackson’s recommendation. He promised they were terrible and that it would be fun to watch them and make fun with each other.

“Be honest with me here,” Jackson says, during a boring point in one movie, “is your dorm bigger than mine?”

“It’s made for two people?” Mark motions to himself and Youngjae as explanation.

“So’s ours,” Jaebum reminds them. Rather, reminds Mark since Youngjae didn’t know. “But I think it’s smaller.”

“You also set yours on fire last year.”

“Jinyoung’s fault.”

“Should I ask?” Youngjae laughs.

“There’s a reason jaebum and I share a dorm, instead of him and Jinyoung.” Jackson laughs even with Jaebum glaring at him.

“Neither of them can be trusted.” Mark dodges the kick Jaebum aims at him for the comment.

“Noted.” Youngjae nods.

“It was not my fault.”

“Sure it wasn’t, Jaebum.” Mark doesn’t manage to dodge the second kick.

The movie goes ignored and Youngjae finds himself falling into the conversation. Listening to the others weave tales of past, and current, arguments and stories in a less than serious manner eventually exhausts him and he falls asleep.

Bye the time he wakes up, he’s alone in the dorm. Youngjae sits up from his place on the floor, glances at the clock, and realizes why he’s by himself. Standing, he goes to change from yesterdays clothes, then makes his way the the breakfast that has already started.

Though sleeping on the floor wasn’t his favourite thing, if this was the routine he fell into, Youngjae doesn’t think he would mind.


	4. Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr version: iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/152286210775/

Hardly did people consider spring a time for harsh storms. Light rain, spring showers, sure, but hardly intense storms that knocked out the power. Youngjae sighs, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks of that. Rain and wind pound against the window to his right- the right of his bed- telling him the storm that knocked out the power was still going.

Classes had been canceled for a few day’s. Which was fine, but left him bored. That was only made worse by power being out for the entire campus, leaving him to his thoughts in the dark and alone. Well, not entirely alone. He may not be able to head out to another dorm building to see their other friends, but Kunpimook was in C building along with him, and Mark is his roommate. However Kunpimook decided to ‘sleep the storm out’ and Mark was downstairs doing… something.

Youngjae wasn’t actually sure what Mark was doing, now that he thought of it. He sits up and leans over the railing, to look down at the other half of the dorm where Mark is. As it turns out, Mark is sitting in his own bed, book in front of him and candy in his hand. A flashlight is tied up to hang over him- so he can see- tied to the railing Youngjae is leaning over. He’s surprised he didn’t notice Mark do that. Then again he wasn’t paying much attention to anything other than the rain and thunder.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?” Mark calls, without looking up.

“What are you doing?” Youngjae doesn’t really need to ask, seeing as he can- well- see.

“Reading.”

“What?”

“Textbook. It’s all I got,” Mark admits, shrugging. Youngjae cant help but laugh, the nothing he was doing seemed like it was more fun over reading textbooks.

“You know I have books you can borrow, right?”

“I wasn’t sure you were awake,” Mark says, looking up at Youngjae finally. As if on cue, thunder rang out, reminding them of the exact reason Youngjae wasn’t.

“Yeah, I’m super asleep right now.”

“Pretty aware for being asleep.”

“It’s a talent.”

“In that case let’s get you on a talent show.”

“’Man can talk while he sleeps and it’s not nonsense! Ten out of ten, first place!’”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I was shocked too.” Youngjae laughs, shaking his head. “Seriously though, books?”

“What’ve you got?” Mark asks, as Youngjae moves away from the railing so he can stand.

“Something more fun to read than a,” Youngjae pauses, looking over his collection of books, “what, history textbook?”

“ _Please_ , Science. Let’s not get too crazy.” Marks words come along with footsteps making their way up the stairs to Youngjae’s section of the dorm.

“Oh that’s so much better,” Youngjae rolls his eyes. “What was I thinking? Here, take your pick. Just give them back eventually.”

“Oh man, and I was going to steal them too.” Mark kneels down next to Youngjae in front of the stack of books, reading the titles as best he can in the dark. When he decides on one they both end up downstairs, sitting cross-legged on on Marks bed, across from each other; the only place with consistent lighting.

 

Over a month ago, Youngjae broke his glasses. Even now he’s still a little bitter at the thought of being goalie, especially being only a few days after a storm that knocked out the power and the grounds still being wet. Yet somehow he ended up as one. How had that happened, again, he wondered?

Though for the sake of his glasses, Youngjae was standing in front of the goal half-blind without them. Thus it’s too no ones surprise- or shouldn’t be, at least- that he get’s hit in the face again.

“My mom gave me this face!” Youngjae mock-cries as he holds his bleeding nose. How could this keep happening to him? He hopes it isn’t a trend.

“Are you okay?” Yugyeom stares down at him, offering a hand to Youngjae. Youngjae takes it, being helped up from his spot on the ground and back onto his feet.

“My glasses aren’t broken this time.”

“Yeah, but are you okay?”

“No.”

Youngjae is in the nurses office until lunch when someone brings him his glasses. He’d left them behind in his hurry to make sure he wasn’t seriously hurt.

“Again?” Is all Mark asks as he hands Youngjae his glasses-case. The nurse dismisses them as soon as it’s in Youngjae’s hand, and Youngjae blinks once the glasses are back on his face. He blinks again when Mark drops clothes- Youngjae’s- onto the bed next to Youngjae. “Figured since you came from gym you’d need these.”

“Thanks,” Youngjae says rubbing his nose. It still hurt, and the weight of his glasses isn’t helping. “My poor face.”

“Your mom gave you that, I hear.”

“Yugyeom is a traitor. Also not true.”

“Oh?”

“I used to say that ‘cause I looked like my mom. Who… well isn’t mom mom, as it turns out.”

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t know.” Mark sits next to Youngjae, who tries to find the most comfortable way to wear his glasses with his new-found pain.

“You did?”

“Yeah, my dad never hid it from me. So I started schooling here back when I was.. seven? Or eight? Well, not _here_ but the elementary campus, but still. It’s basically the same thing.”

“Huh. I always thought my mom was, well, my biological mother. Then suddenly I’m being put in this school and being told ‘oh yeah you’re super adopted’ by her. Then she just… leaves.”

“That… really sucks.”

“Right?! Now who do I blame for this… face of a… face.”

“What?” Mark laughs, though entirely with his body rather than sound. “What does that mean?”

“I couldn’t think of another way to describe it.”

“I’d say… you can probably still blame your mom. Well, your other mom. Helen.”

“You know, that name sounds really mundane out of context. ‘Wow Helen, I didn’t know you had a son.’”

“Now I’m just picturing a suburban mom. ‘Hot suburban mom’ or something like that.”

“Don’t call my mom hot, man. Also, pretty sure I didn’t get my face from her, back to that topic.”

“I mean, she was supposed to be the most beautiful woman in the world, right?”

“I can’t tell if you’re agreeing with me or not.”

“It’s a mystery.”

“Rude.”

“Ahem,” The nurse clears her throat, interrupting the conversation. “Weren’t you two going back to class- or, lunch now I suppose.”

“RIght,” They agree, at the same time.

 

Though his nose may not be broken, Youngjae is still in pain during lunch. He presses his forehead against the table and wishes he had ice.

“Did you want to go back to the nurse?” Jinyoung asks, when Youngjae makes yet another noise to remind them he was, in fact, still in pain.

“No, Helen, I wouldn’t.”

“I’m not your mom- you know what I changed my mind. You can just sit there and suffer.”

“Jinyoung does fit the suburban mom thing scarily well,” Mark says under his breath.

“Yeah but is he hot?” Youngjae asks, just a little louder than Mark’s statement.

“Don’t answer that,” Jinyoung warns.

“Yeah, mom might ground you.” Yugyeom gets up from the table to run when Jinyoung stands. Jinyoung follows and they’re out of the building in what might be record time.

“There they go.” Kunpimook motions to the rest of the table. “And then there were three.”

“Where are they other nerds?”

“Mark that’s mean,” Youngjae scolds, halfheartedly.

“Detention.” Kunpimook sighs, dropping his arms and head onto the table. “The storm was not kind to the roommates relationship. By that I mean Jaebum dared Jackson to jump over the railing in their room and the person bellow them complained about a broken lamp that, that caused.”

“How hard did he hit the ground?”

“Hard enough, apparently.”

“You know,” Mark starts, gaining their attention, “sometimes we say things out of context, and they don’t make sense right? I don’t get how this happened in context.”

“Neither does Jackson.” Kunpimook’s joke nearly goes over Youngjae’s head, who then flinches.

“Ow?”

“Right?!”

 

By the time Youngjae returns to his dorm that night, after the rest of his classes, the pain in his nose has finally dulled. Which is why he doesn’t think about it before dropping himself face-first onto his bed. He lands on something hard- it takes a moment to realize its hard-covered books- and groans.

“Oh look,” Youngjae rolls off of his bed, frowning, “I got my books back.”

“You just face planted onto them didn’t you?” Mark asks from downstairs.

“You can prove nothing. Jerk.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Prove it with ice!”

“I don’t have ice.”

“Then live with me not believing you!”

Youngjae was starting to be concerned that face injuries really were going to be a trend.


	5. Knowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr version: iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/152292967405/

Even after three days, Youngjae’s face still hurts, so he makes sure everyone is well aware. “It’s been three days, and my nose still feels like I was just punched in the face.”

“You did get hurt three times in- like- a month,” Jaebum offers with a shrug. “Maybe you’ve done permanent damage to your nose.”

“Great. That’s what I need.” Youngjae exhales a sigh. He runs a hand over the bruised bridge of his nose, frowning. “Maybe if I’m permanently bruised people will stop staring.”

“Having an issue with that?”

“I thought I’d get used to it. Mark and Jackson did.” Youngjae sighs again, glancing around the cafeteria as if trying to catch someone in the act. He doesn’t, but then he doesn’t look behind him, either. “But if anything it’s even worse the longer it goes on. Strange and… weird to deal with.”

“Strange and weird are basically the same thing.”

“Must you call me out on my poor understanding of words?”

“Aren’t you, like, a giant nerd?”

“Wow, they’re right.”

“Who is?” Jaebum raises an eyebrow in question.

“Literally everyone.”

“About what, then?”

“You’re mean.”

“I am not,” Jaebum gasps, mocking offense, before he slaps Youngjae’s arm. “Do you wanna die?”

“You’re right, you’re so nice.” Sarcasm is etched into his voice and Jaebum glares.

“Is Jaebum bullying you again?” Is Marks form of greeting when he drops down at the table with Jinyoung and Jackson in tow.

“When have I bullied anyone?” Jaebum frowns.

“You set fire to our dorm last year,” Jinyoung states as he sits down, too. Once seated he rips a package of break open and watches Jaebum’s reaction.

“That was your fault!”

“Children.” Jackson sighs, loudly, shaking his head.

“And you’re an adult, Jackson?”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to be Jinyoung’s job to be the mom,” Mark reminds, laughing when Jinyoung angrily shoves a piece of bread into his mouth.

“But right now he’s being a child,” Youngjae adds.

“No, I am the mom,” Jinyoung states, “and you’re all grounded.”

“He’s using it against us now!” Jaebum gasps.

“It’s your own fault, Jaebum.”

“Save me, Youngjae.” Jaebum leans across the table and grabs Youngjae’s hands, pleading.

“Save yourself.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

“What cheesy drama did we just walk into?” Yugyeom raises an eyebrow and takes a seat next to Jinyoung.

“The best kind; one that involves our friends.” Kunpimook gets a small noise of agreement from Jackson, which is enough to somehow throw those two into their own conversation. A tangent about friends being better than real TV dramas, from what little Youngjae pays attention too.

“I’m secretly confessing my love here guys, now’s not the time,” Jaebum complains, character broken.

“You just want me to distract Jinyoung from your argument. I’m not fooled. Your love is a lie.” Youngjae pulls his hands away.

“Shit, he’s onto me.”

“Sorry, gramps, not even we can help you win back Youngjae after this.” Yugyeom steals a piece of bread from Jinyoung while he speaks.

“We’ll take care of him for you, don’t worry,” Jinyoung adds as he hits Yugyeom. Yugyeom stuffs the bread into his mouth before Jinyoung can snatch it back, despite the hit.

“Sorry, Jaebum,” Youngjae tries not to laugh and fails, “It was fun for those five seconds, but I’ve moved on.”

Jaebum clutches his heart dramatically with mock-hurt. In turn Youngjae glances at the people closest to him- Yugyeom and Mark- to play along with his part. Yugyeom is a bit busy defending himself after his bread theft, so Mark takes the cue to throw an arm over Youngjae’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Jaebum, looks like it wasn’t meant to be.” Mark’s poker face doesn’t keep up, breaking as he laughs despite himself.

“I’ll fight you.” It’s halfhearted, and Jaebum sits back up properly.

“No fighting at the table.” Jackson holds up a hand, as if it’s a legitimate concern or possibility. Both of which aren’t true.

“What about the assault happening right across from us?” Kunpimook tilts his head towards Jinyoung and Yugyeom for emphasis.

“Yugyeom is fine.”

“Rude,” Yugyeom mutters.

“You are though. I barely hit you.” Jinyoung holds his hands up, as if that somehow proves it.

“Mom is bullying me.”

“You’re grounded.”

“See.”

“I feel like there’s two very different things going on at once here,” Youngjae says, mostly to himself, in realization.

“That’s usually how it goes, though,” Mark notes. Youngjae shrugs in response.

“I see your point.”

 

As more time passes, Youngjae gets used to the idea of demigods being real. More time spent with his friends, more time learning about the school and the mythological parents reality, makes it easier to accept. Youngjae has accepted not only that, but that he’s equally as involved in the whole thing as anyone else at the school. Yet, that fills his mind with another set of questions.

Why hadn’t his mother told him sooner? What purpose did waiting so long sever? If she had known the whole time, did she plan to never tell him? Did something make her tell him?

Youngjae writes questions of that nature in letters to his mom, but gets no answers in response. Avoidance had never been something he thought to associate with her, but shes pretty good at it. It hurts. That she wouldn’t tell him something so important until the last minute, and then not answer his question about it hurts.

Usually Youngjae would talk to Mark about things that are bothering him. They shared a room, so it was convenient, and they were already pretty good friends. This isn’t something Mark will understand, though. He’d known his whole life, practically. Youngjae’s issue was that he _hadn’t_ known.

Youngjae isn’t sure why, but Jaebum is the person who comes to mind next. So he goes with his gut, and ends up outside of Jaebum and Jackson’s dorm.

“Oh,” Jaebum opens his door with a yawn, seeming to have just woken up, “Youngjae. What’s up?”

“Well, nothing, but…” Youngjae suddenly feels bad. It was the weekended, it’s entirely possible he had just woken Jaebum up.

“Wanna talk about something?”

“Sorta.”

“Come in?” Jaebum steps back, opening the door fully in turn with the invitation. True to what Youngjae had been told, it seemed the dorm was smaller than his. Youngjae also takes note of Jackson’s absence from the dorm.

Jaebum and Youngjae end up seated on the floor with a mess of pillows and blankets around and under them. The mess was already there when Youngjae arrived, suspiciously placed under the railing, and he’s at least glad to know they tried to prepare when Jackson jumped from there.

“So?” Jaebum’s voice startles Youngjae out of his observations, and back to the topic at hand.

“Right.” Youngjae isn’t actually sure how to ask. How to go about asking if Jaebum would understand. “When did you find out?”

“You’re gonna need to be just a bit more specific. That’s pretty vague.”

“About the whole ‘demigod’ thing.”

“Oh.” Jaebum pauses. After humming in thought for a moment, he frowns. “Two years ago?”

“Only that long?”

“Hey. Didn’t you only find out- what- a month ago?” Youngjae shrugs in response to that, and Jaebum continues. “Yeah, my mom and- well dad for all purposes outside of actual blood relation- didn’t tell me until then. I think they only told me because I started showing signs of being ‘different’ for lack of a better word. As cliche as that sounds.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“My mom still wont… tell me anything.” Youngjae’s tone is frustrated and he sighs. “Like… not even if she knew from the start. Or why she suddenly told me. Or why she didn’t tell me until then; why she waited so long to tell me even that I was adopted!”

“Youngjae,” Jaebum says, softly. He blinks, once, twice, surprised at the outburst; at how upset Youngjae is. From what Youngjae heard, Jaebum wasn’t the best at comforting people, and Youngjae feels bad again. “Maybe she wasn’t going to tell you and only did for the same reasons mine did.”

“But… signs? I can’t see how I’m in anyway like… _her_. She’s supposed to be some pillar of beaut and- like- I don’t know. Seduction or something? I once tripped over myself and hit a girl I liked in the face at the same time as hitting a boy I liked in the throat. That was six second of my life that’s not even that far from the rest.”

“That’s brilliant.” Jaebum laughs. Youngjae has long been over it, finds it ridiculous even, but glares just to prove a point. Jaebum remains unaffected and Youngjae sighs, giving up. “Sorry?”

“I just… My mom can only avoid telling me because she doesn’t have to look me in the eyes over letters, but I don’t think I can wait until the next time I see her to get answers. If I see her? Do we go home on vacations?”

“If we have somewhere to go, then yeah.” Jaebum nods and leans back on his hands. “You could call her? Or video call her?”

“I don’t own a phone or laptop, remember?”

“Right,” Jaebum hums, and sits back up so he can turn around. He grabs a phone from the nightstand behind him, and waves it around. “You can borrow mine?”

“You sure?”

“You didn’t break my glasses when I lent those to you, so I think I can trust you with this. It’s less fragile, even.”

“I’m honored.” The monotone of his words, a joke, comes without any thought. He almost regrets it, but Jaebum just shoves the phone at him so Youngjae grabs it out of instinct. “Thank you. I mean… for letting me yell, and this.”

“Hey, I live with Jackson. Yelling isn’t that big of a deal. Besides, we’re friends. I’m not the best at helping but I’ll still try. You know?”

“Thank you.”

 

To say his mother is startled by the call is something of an understatement. Upon realizing the call is from Youngjae- when he speak- she shrieks. He can’t help but feel upset by that. Was talking to him something she was legitimately afraid to do? Did it bother her that much?

“Oh, Youngjae,” He can hear her breath out, calming down. “What is it?”

“You haven’t been answering my questions,” She takes a sharp intake of breath, “so I called to ask.”

“Questions?” She laughs, nervousness clear in her voice. Youngjae frowns, feeling worse the more he talks to her. Was it really that bad to tell him? “What questions?”

“Like… if you always knew?”

“Knew?”

“About me.”

“I… knew from when you were very young, yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It never… felt like the right time. No, I should say, it never felt like I should. I wanted you to live normally.”

“Why did you then?”

“People were starting to notice.”

“Notice?”

“You.”

“I don’t- I don’t get it.” Youngjae sighs, bites his lip and stares at the ground. Then, after a moment shakes his head and speaks again. “No, that’s not true. I get what you’re trying to say.”

How could he not? It wasn’t hard to figure out, if all the staring at school meant anything, he could guess what being noticed meant. Would it have been worse, if he was around normal people? And he’d lived in a city, before.

“Youngjae?”

“Well… how are you, mom?”

“Well. I’ve been well. I miss you, of course, but things here are alright, dear. The real question is how you are!”

“Good.” Youngjae pauses, then nods to himself. “Yeah, good. My friends are giant nerds, it’s pretty great.”

“Do you have a lot of friends?”

“Sorta… Yeah.”

“So, they’re nice?”

“One did lend me his phone to use, so they’re pretty okay.”

 

“So, was the answer okay?”

“She gave me some, at least.” Youngjae drops himself down next to Jaebum dramatically, and heaves a sigh. Passing the phone back to Jaebum, he frowns. “I don’t know what I expected.”

“Nothing, everything.”

“You’re so wise,” Youngjae jokes. At the very least he himself finds it funny.

“No, that’s Jinyoung and Yugyeom.”

“Shit, you’re right. I’m ruined. I’m not a real mythology nerd, take away my diploma.”

“Wait till I tell the press. The school papers that don’t exist will sell so well.”

“I can’t believe you would do this to me, your one true love.”

“Didn’t you break up with me?”

“I don’t know. Probably? These jokes are out of control I can’t keep track of them.”

“Let’s start a school news paper.”

“To do what? Write our terrible jokes?”

“And about how cool we are.” Jaebum manages to maintain a straight face, even when Youngjae snorts and presses his face into his arm to muffle his laughter.

“Right, right.” Youngjae shakes his head. After a few deep breaths, his laughter calms and he’s left with a smile on his face that Jaebum returns. “We can tell everyone of your great musical skill.”

“Finally. People will remember what Apollo was really about.”

 

After checking to make sure there aren’t books this time, Youngjae drops himself onto his bed with a sigh. The day might not have actually been long, since he woke up in the afternoon, but it sure felt like it. Exhaustion settled over him and he wanted nothing but to rest.

“You okay up there?” Mark asks. Youngjae thought he was asleep when he came back- had looked it- so Youngjae is startled by the question.

“Tired.” Youngjae flops over so he can stare up at the ceiling. “Did I wake you up?”

“No. I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Did something happen?”

“Just got some answers about some stuff.” Youngjae turns over again, this time onto his side, facing the railing beside his bed. “About my mom and why she didn’t tell me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“I don’t know,” Youngjae admits, closing his eyes. Another small sigh escapes him. “I guess? I get it but…”

“Just because you understand doesn’t mean you have to feel okay with it. Not necessarily.”

“Yeah. Hey, you’re pretty smart.”

“Here I thought I was just a pretty face.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be someone else’s line?”

“If I beat them to it, it feel less insulting.”

“Fair enough.” Youngjae yawns. Shifting he presses his face into a pillow and can hear shifting from bellow, as well.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”


	6. Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Version: iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/152328787280/
> 
> I think, this was the longest chapter in the original, as well as this one, but I'm not entirely sure.

When Youngjae was younger, he never thought of himself as particularly attractive. Too often big glasses, clumsiness, and enjoying learning were treated as unattractive traits for Youngjae to assume anything else. People like him were always the ‘before’ in a characters journey to become someone, someone else loved and admired. Though he thought of it a time or two, changing his appearance never felt like something that would really _change_ anything, either.

He’s not as young now, and has accepted that somethings aren’t as he thought. He’s the son of a mythological figure. One known for being beautiful, even. Attention has been drawn to him since he found out more, than he had ever thought, was possible. So part of him wonders if it would be okay, to want to try a change. It wasn’t even that he wanted to change, but that he wanted to know that he could, and still be secure with himself.

So he ends up with contacts. Youngjae immediately is aware that he doesn’t like them very much- at least in comparison to his glasses- but one day isn’t going to kill him. He’s determined to at least try a change, to prove to himself that a change to his appearance wont make a difference. That, along with the hope that things would follow tropes he was aware of. That he would get more attention, so he could feel more okay with getting so much with his glasses, since it would be less.

Being his roommate, Mark is the first person to see him, and thus notice. “Oh, Youngjae, your glasses?”

“Contacts.”

“Huh.” Mark nods, somehow seeming disappointed. “Okay, as long as you can see this time.”

 

The second person to directly question it is Jaebum. During lunch, while they’re waiting for the others, he motions to his own face. “Did you break them again?”

“Oh, no.” Youngjae waves the question off. “Just… testing something.”

“If you say so.” There’s a pause, where it seems like that’s the end of it, before Jaebum speaks again. “Honestly I think you looked better with them.”

“Oh, well… Thanks?” If Youngjae was right, so did most everyone else. It seemed in general, that instead of the increase he had expected, the attention he got was less than usual. It’s somewhat disappointing.

 

The next day Youngjae returns to his glasses despite that. Contacts were irritating, to him, and he was so used to the weight of his glasses it felts strange without them. Of course, he keeps them in case he ever wants to wear them again, but that’s an afterthought.

Most of his life, Youngjae has worn whatever fit and was comfortable. Which was fine, but not exactly stylish, so he decided to test clothes next. Part of him didn’t think anything ‘stylish’ would suit him, but that wasn’t the point, anyway. The point was to try, so he does. It’s unfortunate that he doesn’t actually own anything other than what he usually wears, but he can find ways around that.

Like borrowing thing.

“What?” Yugyeom blinks at him, confused, when Youngjae ask to borrow a sweater from him. “No offense but… you’re- like- way too small for them?”

“That’s the point.” Over-sized sweaters looked cute, right? Youngjae thought that was the case, at least. They would be comfortable, too, so Youngjae didn’t have to worry about that.

“If you say so,” Yugyeom shrugs, handing one over, “I expect it back though.”

“Of course.”

Youngjae considers- when he actually has it on and realizes it is, in fact, really comfortable- not giving it back. He finds that not only is it comfortable, but wearing loose clothing is something he actually seems to suit. _‘Sorry Yugyeom,’_ Youngjae thinks, _‘I’m starting a new life of crime.’_

In contrast, Youngjae attempts to force himself into a tight-fitting pair of pants. They used to fit, he swears. They still do, technically, but not comfortably. At the very least, he’s proud of himself for being able to button them and everything, and trying the new style.

It least for half a day.

“Youngjae, please, you look like you’re dying,” Mark says, as he all but pushes Youngjae back towards the dorms. “Go change. I’ll get your lunch so don’t worry about that.”

When Youngjae exchanges the horrendous things he used to call pants for shorts, he feels much better right away. This is even better, he decides as he makes his way to lunch. At the very least it’s more comfortable and he’s starting to decide that’s the most important thing.

“Oh Youngjae, you took those pants off,” Jaebum notes. A second too late he realize how that sounds, and tries to correct it. “You looked like you were dying.”

“Can we not make comments about me taking my pants off.”

“Well there goes my afternoon,” Mark jokes, sliding a tray of food over to Youngjae when he sits.

“Don’t be weird.”

“You really did look like death, though,” Jaebum adds.

“No that’s Bambam.” Kunpimook gives Youngjae finger-guns in response.

 

Out of any of this ‘tests’ Youngjae decides the over-sized sweaters were the best. Them, and maybe shorts. He also decides that his health is more important than fashion, and considers burning the offending pants.

He also offers Yugyeom a ton of food in exchange for keeping the sweater.

His next- and probably final- text is something he needs help with. Though he could probably try on his own, having help seems like the best idea. Mark is the person Youngjae ends up in front of, for help. “Hey, can you help me with something?”

“Depends, what?” Mark looks up from he book in his lap- one of Youngjae’s- with a tilt of his head.

“Can you help me style my hair?” As soon as Youngjae asks, Mark almost laughs, but nods none the less. He must have thought it was something more serious.

“How?”

“I…” Hadn’t actually thought that far. Mark seems to understand and reaches out to Youngjae’s hair, re-positioning it.

“how about that? Or…” Mark folds it away from Youngjae’s forehead, then mumbles to himself until he realizes Youngjae can’t actually see what he’s doing. “Oh, right.”

Mark grabs Youngjae’s shoulders, spins him around to face a mirror on their wall, and then goes back to messing with Youngjae’s hair. It’s nothing more than a general idea of how any style will look, but it’s enough for Youngjae to know if he wants to change it a certain way or not. He hesitates, realizing he’s not actually sure how well Mark can actually help with this, and decides on simply changing his bangs. Side-swept bangs don’t seem like that hard of a change.

It’s enough, though, that Youngjae still feels a bit awkward about it. Even has Mark starts brushing Youngjae’s hair to the side and making an effort to get it to stay.

“What’s up with all this, anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Youngjae tries to look at Mark past the others’ hands in his face.

“All the changes. Not that they’re bad, or anything, but I hope they’re not because you think you need them.”

“I just… I never felt confident enough to try them before. I might not end up liking them, but I feel okay enough to at least try them to see if I do.”

“I see.” Mark nods. At least Youngjae thinks he does, he can barely tell. “Okay.”

“Why?”

“Huh?” Mark pauses, both speaking and his motions. “Oh. I mean you’re fine as you are. I just wanted to make sure if you’re changing things it’s because you want to, or like something else more, not because you think there’s something wrong with you.”

“Well,” Youngjae doesn’t know how to respond to that, “thank you.”

 

Youngjae has to wonder- when Jaebum throws an arm over his shoulder on the way out of study hall- if Mark and Jaebum think more similarly than he thought. Jaebum pulls him aside, serious expression on his face.

“You okay?”

“What?” Youngjae raises an eyebrow, to emphasize the question.

“You’re making, or trying to make, a lot of changes lately. No one’s trying to make you think you need to, right?”

“No. I just felt like it.”

“Okay.” Jaebum nods. The arm that was thrown over Youngjae’s shoulder lifts to pat his head.

“You’re going to mess up my hair.”

“Oh?” Jaebum laughs and drops his arm back down to Youngjae’s shoulder. He gives a small, dismissive shrug. “Did it take you a long time?”

“Sorta? More like it took _Mark_ a long time.”

“You let Mark near your hair?”

“Should I… not have?”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know how to style his own hair. Let alone anyone else’s.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Youngjae isn’t really paying attention to the conversation going on around him when Jaebum drops his elbows onto the table and his face into his hands.

“I can’t believe I’m friends with you guys.”

“What did I miss?” Youngjae mutters mostly to himself, only to get a shrug in response from Kunpimook. “Thanks, that tells me a lot.”

“Oh no! Jaebum is tired of us, he’s going to leave.” Jackson mock-gasps.

“I can’t leave. I have to stop you from doing stupid shit.”

“You’re not doing a very good job. Didn’t you dare Jackson to jump from one floor of your dorm to the other?” Jinyoung reminds them of the fact.

“Guys!” Youngjae smacks the palms of his hands onto the table with a gasp. “I figured it out, Jaebum is the dad.”

“Oh my god.” Jaebum glares.

“We didn’t know how to tell you, after the divorce,” Jinyoung says, clutching his chest as if it was a real event that hurt to think about.

“When can I move in with dad? Mom is mean.” Yugyeom dodges a smack in the arm from Jinyoung.

“I’m a great mom.”

“Sorry Yugyeom. I got Jackson and Jinyoung got you.” Jaebum decides to play along and drops one of his arms onto the table. He continues to use the other to rest his chin on.

“Ha, suck it, Yugyeom.”

“Jackson is bullying me.”

“Who got me?” Kunpimook raises his hand, like a kid waiting to be called on in class.

“We had to make it even so,” Jinyoung pauses, then points to Mark, “uncle Mark.”

“Sure, why not.” Mark shrugs.

“You don’t love me.” Kunpimook flops dramatically against the nearest person to him- Jackson- pretending to be upset. A whole few second go by where he manages it, before he breaks into a laugh.

“What does that make Youngjae?” Yugyeom asks, motioning to Youngjae as he does. “He did just get here.”

“New mom,” Jackson offers, only to get a french fry to the face. He falls backwards in his seat, and Kunpimook laughs at him.

“Other uncle,” Kunpimook suggests, instead.

“Why mom?” Youngjae asks, as Jackson recovers and gets back into his seat.

“I need someone to distract Jaebum so I can sneak out for dates, duh.” Jackson grins at him.

“You don’t have any dates.”

“Hey, Bambam, shut up.”

“Besides,” Kunpimook ignores him, “I need him to distract Mark so I can have proper teenage angst.”

“Didn’t you say- like- a week ago there was no point in being sad?”

“Don’t call me out like this.”

“Children.” Youngjae takes advantage as his new status as one of the group adults, whichever role he is. It isn’t really important which. “No fighting at the table.”

“I’m so proud of you.” Jinyoung high-fives him.

“When will you let Youngjae adopt me, though?” Yugyeom sighs.

“Yugyeom, why do you not love your mother?”

“You’re the one that doesn’t love me.” Jinyoung mock-gasps and kicks Yugyeom under the table for that.

“I love you!”

“You’re not my real mom!”

“We still love you, Jinyoung,” Kunpimook offers, patting Jinyoung on the shoulder. “So you should take me back in and let Yugyeom live with uncle Mark.”

“Do you not want to live with me, Bam?” Mark frowns, almost looking convincingly hurt. Until he smiles a second later. “Is it because of your new Uncle? I can get rid of Youngjae.”

“Mark!” Youngjae gasps. “I thought you loved me.”

“Not more than my nephew.”

“How’s it feel, Youngjae?” Jaebum asks, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m sorry about that time we fake-broke-up, Jaebum. I now understand the pain of being fake-broken-up with.”

“Can you imagine trying to explain this conversation to someone else?” Yugyeom suddenly asks, as if that’s where he draws the line on the conversation being nonsense.

“That would be a nightmare,” Jinyoung admits. He throws and arm over Yugyeom’s shoulders, turning to him. “You don’t actually hate me, right?”

“Of course not, mom.”

They move away from conversations of their fake-family, and by the end of lunch Youngjae can barely remember anything of what happened. Maybe they really did need to start writing down their terrible jokes.

 

Once a week their dorm receives a box with letters, and anything else, they’ve been mailed that week. Usually on those days, Mark gets two or three letters from his parents, and he spends the next portion of the day reading them and writing back. Youngjae thinks it’s nice, especially to see how Mark’s face lights up at the sight of them.

Youngjae, for his part, usually gets a letter from his mother in response to the last one he sent her. Though he doesn’t expect a particularly long one, since they spoke earlier in the week, he had still expected one.

But the box arrives, Mark collects his own letters, and then it’s empty.

Maybe he should have seen it coming. Youngjae tries to tell himself he should have, but he didn’t. He tries not to feel bad about it, but it hurts. It’s only a week, he tells himself, he can handle one week without a letter. It’s just jealousy, he tries to convince himself, since his roommate got multiple letters.

Youngjae thinks that must be it, and drags himself up to his part of the dorm. Dropping himself onto his bed, he tries to read a book and not think about it. Yet he finds himself re-reading the same page three times without processing any of it, before he sighs. His bed shifts, and he looks up to find Mark sitting beside him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Youngjae himself doesn’t believe he’s telling the truth. “Probably.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.” Youngjae is glad Mark doesn’t pry, wouldn’t know what to say if he had. Shifting, Youngjae crosses his legs under himself.

“Aren’t you usually reading and replying to letters right about now?”

“I don’t think a few hours will make a huge difference.” Mark shrugs and leans back against the railing behind them.

“Don’t do that.”

“Worried I’ll fall? My bed is right under here, I’d probably be fine.”

“Or you’ll do a flip and miss.”

“That’d look pretty cool.”

“Mark, no. You spend too much time with Jackson.” Youngjae sighs and Mark laughs.

“Maybe he’s the one who spends too much time with me. I’m secretly the reckless one.”

“What a twist.” Youngjae reaches over, grabs Mark’s shoulder, and pulls Mark away from the railing. “Seriously though, you’re scaring me.”

“Okay,” Mark scoots forward, further from the railing. “If you’re that worried.”

“Thanks.”

“You know,” Mark points to the book in Youngjae’s lap, “that’s upside down?”

“That… explains why I couldn’t seem to understand what I was reading.”

“Youngjae… are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just… bitter.”

“Somehow that hard to picture. Since it’s you.” Mark wraps an arm around Youngjae’s shoulders. “But it’s okay. We all are sometimes.”

“Can I repeat what you just said? It’s hard to picture you being bitter, too.”

“Maybe not bitter? Jealous? Though what it’s about… you might argue is a good thing.”

“Try me?”

“Hm,” Mark hums in consideration. After a short pause he nods and takes back his arm. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Youngjae turns so he’s fully facing Mark and to give him his full attention.

“Ha. Alright so… I’ve basically always known who my ‘mother’ is. My parents told me from the very beginning. I know that seem like the better option- maybe it is- but I’ve been here pretty much my whole life. Well, at schools like this, at least.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not bad, really, but I haven’t… gotten as much time with my family as I’d like. I don’t really know what the differences between this and normal life is. Normal schools, normal friendships, I just don’t know. So… I’m sort of jealous of my friends who do.”

“Oh.” Youngjae nods. It seemed pretty obvious, now that Mark said as much. There’s a pause, before Youngjae laughs. “That’s ironic. I was jealous of you.”

“Grass is always greener, and all that?”

“Pretty much.” Youngjae nods again. “Maybe it’s because it was so sudden, but I wish I had known. I don’t miss normal school, really, and I have more friends here. I can relate to more people. It’s just hard to… suddenly have everything you know ripped away. To suddenly find out you’ve been lied to for your _whole life_ by someone you trusted and were close to. Even if she thought it was the best for me.”

“I don’t know what that’s like, but you can talk to me about it if you need too. You know that right? Or, if you think they’d be more helpful, the others.”

“Yeah. Thank you. It’s the same… for you. Just for the record. You can talk to me too.”

“Yeah.” Mark nods.

“Also just so you know, normal schools are lame.”

“Thanks.”

 

Youngjae appreciates Mark’s offer to listen, but that doesn’t change the fact Mark really can’t understand the feeling. Not that it’s Mark’s fault. Youngjae is glad to know he has someone to talk to, that in and of itself helps. Still, part of him just wants someone to say they know the feeling. That they understand.

The person that comes to mind first is Jaebum, for whatever reason. So, after a competing day, Youngjae pulls Jaebum aside while the others get together to study or avoid doing so. Youngjae tries to bring it up subtly. If ‘subtly’ means muttering ‘when will someone listen to me complain’ until Jaebum tells him to ‘shut up and tell me.’

Which is contradicting but Youngjae let’s it slide. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“I already listened to you yell about something before. I don’t mind listening to you complain more now, you know.”

“True. You’re a good friend, you know?”

“Don’t butter me up,” Jaebum says as he sits and motions for Youngjae to sit next to him. “Come on then, tell me how terrible everything is.”

“Not everything.” Youngjae takes the offer and drops down next to Jaebum. “You ever wish you had known sooner?”

“About?”

“Yourself.”

“Ah, we’re talking about finding out. Of course I do.”

“I just… I get why. I really do. But I’m still upset it was hid from me. Suddenly everything I’ve ever known is gone, I guess? I like it here, don’t get me wrong, but some warning or time would have been nice.”

“I get it.” Jaebum’s tone is sincere and empathetic. It’s enough that Youngjae is happy enough with just that response.

“Yeah.”

“It may not have been much of one, but I had a life before that’s just… gone suddenly. My family isn’t what I thought it was and now people expect things out of me. Things that are expected purely because I’m the son of someone I’ve never even met, and now I’m stuck here. Even if I don’t care about it, I don’t have a choice. Thoughts like that?”

“Exactly!”

“Right.” Jaebum laughs. “But I’m glad that I found out eventually.”

“Yeah. I… like it here. Actually, if I had been brought here with more warning and it wasn’t against my will, I probably wouldn’t have thought about not wanting to be here.”

“Then we’re in the same boat. Well, I’ve been here longer, but still.”

“Thanks.”

“Did I do something?”

“I just wanted to hear that someone else understood.”

“Oh. Well, okay, you’re welcome?”

 

As it turns out, buying contacts was a good idea. Gym is easier when he can both see and not worry about breaking his glasses. At the very least he’s glad for them in hindsight.

Despite that, though, he still uses Yugyeom as protection.

“I feel like I’m being used.”

“It’s because you are,” Youngjae admit. “Come on, you’re fine. Stuff that hits me directly in the face probably hits you in the chest. Save me.”

“I’m not even that tall.” Yuygeom’s argument’s are less convincing when he continues to stand in front of Youngjae. “We’re not even on the field.”

True to that, they stand on the sidelines as the rest of the teams they they were assigned to fought it out in yet another sport Youngjae doesn’t want a part of: volleyball. If it were on the court, Yugyeom wouldn’t even be any protection, the threat coming from above.

“Exactly.”

“You’re going to love it when winter comes.”

“Why’s that?”

“Indoor sports are less dangerous to your face.”

“Unless,” Youngjae argues, “something bounces off a wall for a sneak attack.”

“Youngjae… I think you have a minor case of sport-induced PTSD.”

“I’m not traumatized.”

“Are you sure?”

 

Youngjae has been around long enough to be used to how things usually were for their group of friends. Confusing nonsense of inside jokes and other conversations over lunch were the norm. Hence why the quiet of missing members is really strange.

“Who knew the adults being gone could be so boring.” Jackson groans, dropping his head onto the table.

“Youngjae is still here?” Yugyeom motions to Youngjae vaguely.

“I’m not an adult.”

“I thought you were the new mom.”

“I thought he was new uncle,” Kunpimook says, picking at his food.

“No way. You guys are too much work.”

“Rude,” Jackson mutters.

“Fair.” Yugyeom shrugs. Kunpimook tsks at him, as if he’d said something wrong.

“Don’t admit it.”

“Especially you.”

“Brat.”

“Hey, Youngjae,” Jackson starts, ignoring the other two’s mock-fight.

“Yeah?”

“Real talk.”

“Oh no. What is it?”

“You think those two like you?”

“Uh… who?” Youngjae doesn’t think anyone does, in the way it sounds like he means.

“Jaebum, Mark.”

“What?” Youngjae coughs, clears his throat, and raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Ah, you didn’t notice.”

“Notice what?”

“Never-mind.”

“Jackson-”

“You wanna die?!” Kunpimook shouts, pointing to Yugyeom as if it’s supposed to be threatening. The interruption isn’t actually something Youngjae minds, and he turns his attention to them.

“I’m not fooled. I know you inherited exactly zero death related traits.”

“What did he get, then?” Youngjae asks, re-entering the conversation.

“Constantly looking exhausted and the inability to grow plants.” Kunpimook shrugs.

“Seriously?” Kunpimook did look tired a lot, though Youngjae hardly noticed because of how he acted.

“No. My garden at home was fantastic.”

“You have a garden?”

“He grow tomato’s. They’re not half bad.” Yugyeom glances over to Kunpimook, who eyes him suspiciously.

“We can be friends again.”

“I’m glad complimenting your tomato’s is all it takes to make us friends. Thanks, Bambam.”

“I can compliment your tomato’s too,” Jackson announces.

“Something about this conversation sounds wrong.” Youngjae doesn’t know what it is, but he honestly thinks so.

“That’s your own fault. Blame your mind not the conversation.”

 

Youngjae can’t help thought of Jackson’s words interrupting his other thoughts. Honestly, he would have been fine not hearing it, but it wasn’t like he could un-hear it. Not without a seriously head injury, at least, and he doesn’t want that.

Somehow, he manages to avoid Mark despite their shared dorm. Youngjae pretends to be too tired for conversation at night, and gets up early the next morning. Jaebum, on the other hand, is harder to avoid since they have study-hall together.

“You okay?” Jinyoung asks, when Youngjae scoots his seat further towards him. Youngjae attempts to sink further down in it.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Youngjae. Youngjae, dear, you’re not subtle.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Jackson talked to you, didn’t he?”

“Did he talk to you?”

“The fact either of us can ask, means we both did. But I’m not the subject of it.”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

“Don’t be so awkward.” Jinyoung lightly kicks Youngjae’s legs. “Neither of them are acting weird about it. I doubt they expect you to know. Nor do they expect you to do anything if you do.”

“You really think there’s something for me to know?”

“They’ve been my friends for years. Jaebum even before he got here. I know them well enough to know that there is, in fact, something to know.”

“Ugh.”

“Does it bother you?”

“You being right bothers me.” Youngjae clutches his head when Jinyoung smacks him, even though it doesn’t hurt. Suddenly he identifies more with Yugyeom than he ever has before. “Ow. You know know what I mean.”

“They’ll be fine.”

“What?”

“If you don’t feel that way towards one or either of them. Don’t over-think it. You aren’t going to ruin a friendship by staying their friend.”

“Yeah… okay. Thanks, mom.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the adults, too?”

“Have you met me?”

“Fair enough.”

“Well don’t agree that easily!”

“Mr. Choi!” The teacher scolds, reminding him that they’re in class. He apologizes, sinking further into his seat again and shaking his head at the glance Jaebum sends him. Jinyoung is right. There isn’t a point in getting worked up about it. With that in mind, Youngjae goes about his day as usual.


	7. Friendship, Love, and Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr version: iamashamedofmyfanfics.tumblr.com/post/152342014560/

While Youngjae doesn’t say anything about Mark and Jaebum’s feelings- and they don’t either- he’s pretty sure they know he’s aware of them. Glances and shrugs shared between them seem to indicate so, at least. Youngjae appreciates they don’t ask him about it, if anything, because he doesn’t know what he would say.

That just means he doesn’t have to think about it, though. It’s not being forced into the forefront of his mind, but he still worries. What would he say? He’s not even sure how he actually feels about it.

Youngjae isn’t used to attention. He hadn’t been, at least, before he’d found out who his ‘mother’ was. In the weeks since finding out he was the son of Helen of Troy, its gotten a little bit easier to deal with attention, but it’s still weird. As far as he had known, no one has had feeling for him before. At the very least he’s never known about any. Even having such close friendships was new to him.

Part of him wonders if the feelings he feels towards them are platonic or not. Is he just caught up in the suddenness of if, or was it because he wasn’t used to it? Why did knowing one’s own feelings have to be so difficult? Wasn’t it hard enough to figure out others feelings?

“What if I just date everyone?” Youngjae sighs, burying his face in his hands.

“Some people do that,” Kunpimook replies without looking up from the notes he’s copying. He gives a shrug. “Depends on if they’re cool with it.”

“I hate emotions. They suck.”

“Same.”

“You’re no help.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Kunpimook sits up straight, finally looks away from the notes. He looks Youngjae directly in the eyes, so Youngjae is sure to pay attention. “You could do nothing. You could tell them you know and don’t know. I don’t what to tell you. You already know your options. They’re your feelings- and theirs- not mine. I don’t know what you feel, dude.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right.”

“Rude.” A pause. “Oh wait, you agree.”

“Could you just pretend to be the most insightful person in the world? Tell me what to do.”

“Sorry. I know just about as well as you do. Actually, less.”

“Thanks, anyways.”

 

When Youngjae was younger, he’d had crushes on people. In some instances, he’d had multiple crushes at the same time. Nothing ever came of them, nothing good at the very least, but he’d had them. (The incident where he hit two of his crushes in the matter of a few seconds on accident haunts him to this day.) He tries to think of how those felt. Back then, when he thought those crushes were incredibly important, how had he felt? Nothing matches up with how he feels now. Not about Mark nor Jaebum.

In the past there had always been a longing for something he was sure wasn’t a real possibility. They’re both right there, though, with feelings for him. For the first time, the possibility was very real. Instead of longing, Youngjae is scared.

When he really thinks about it, they’d both been a huge part in bringing him forward as a person. The others had helped, but there were conversation and actions specifically from those two that had helped him. They had become important to him.

Willingness to listen, sharing their own pasts and feelings with him, those were things that meant a lot to him.

When he needed to hear that someone understood his feelings about how he was told and his lineage, there was Jaebum, sharing his own memories. When bitterness and jealousy settled in his chest, there was Mark telling him that it was okay to feel those things, that he had as well. If it wasn’t for them he might have ended up going to someone else, sure, but it was also entirely possible he would have just bottled it up.

They’re comfortable. They listened and tried to help him. If their advice or words didn’t help, the fact that they tried at all did. Warmth filled him and reminded him he wasn’t alone. People care about him, and he them.

So what was he going to do? He sighs, dropping his head onto his desk, and frowns. How is he going to figure out how he feels?

“Are you okay?” Mark asks.

“Yeah, fine.” Youngjae’s response is automatic. It’s not as if he can say _‘no I’m just here thinking about if I have feelings for you or not, it’s cool’_ to Mark. Youngjae groans and the sound of Jackson laughing fills his ears.

“Yeah, you sure seem it.”

“This is your fault, Jackson.”

“What did I do?”

“You know.”

“What _did_ you do?” Marks question gets Jackson to make a face in attempt to display he doesn’t know, but failing too. Youngjae doesn’t need to look up to realize as much, hearing the disbelieving scoff from Mark says enough.

“Nothing.”

“Uh huh…”

“He didn’t do anything,” Youngjae says, sighing and finally lifting his head. “Technically.”

“Technically.”

“Yep.” Youngjae shrugs, doesn’t look Mark in the eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so…”

Mark tends not to pry, Youngjae notes. Neither of them do, really, but Mark was less likely to ask Youngjae again if he said he didn’t want to talk about it. Mark offers to listen, offers to help, but if Youngjae says he doesn’t want to speak, Mark will drop the subject. Opts to distract Youngjae from it, or bring it around through other conversation. Youngjae never feels forced to speak, which is something he appreciates, but in the long run could that lack of discussion come back to bite them? Or would Mark bring something back if it was truly an issue?

“Youngjae?” He blinks, brought from his thoughts to realize he’s staring.

“Sorry. I was thinking about something.”

“Okay…”

 

Another day comes and goes, another lunch comes, and Youngjae picks at his food with disinterest. Why had he grabbed a salad again?

“Youngjae, eat.”

“I am eating,” Youngjae defends, not looking up at Jinyoung.

“You’ve been staring at your food for- like- ten minutes. Not eating. So no, you’re not.” Jinyoung sighs, leaning against the table to try and get into Youngjae’s line of sight. “You okay?”

“Fine, mom.” Youngjae stabs a fork-full of vegetables and stuffs them into his mouth. “Happy?”

“Don’t talk while eating.”

“Youngjae is angst-ing.” Yugyeom pats him on the shoulder. It’s not comforting. “It’s okay.”

“I am not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“Don’t… worry about it.”

“Love.” Kunpimook dodges out of the way when Youngjae throws his fork at him.

“Where are the love god kids when you need them?” Jinyoung laughs when Youngjae glares at him. “Oh wait… one of them is the problem, huh.”

“How about we talk about someone-that-isn’t-me’s love life?”

“Ha. Jokes on you we don’t have any.” A pause, where everyone wait for Jinyoung to realize what he’s said. “I didn’t think that response through.”

“Nice going, Jinyoung.”

“Shut up, Bambam.”

“Where are the others, anyway?” Yugyeom asks, drawing the conversation away from the topic of love-lives. Youngjae silently thanks him, mouthing the words, and Yugyeom just smiles in response.

“Detention, again.”

“What did they do this time?” Youngjae looks down at his food when he asks, only to realize he’d thrown his fork. How it hadn’t occurred to him that he couldn’t eat without it, is beyond him, but he curses himself. _Good going, Youngjae, your fork is on the ground now._

“I don’t know.” Jinyoung shrugs. “Probably either something really stupid, or got into a fight.”

“Do they get in fights often, or something?”

“No. Well, Jackson sometimes. Only if someone is, and I quote, ‘talking shit about a good person.’ The other two usually just end up involved in stopping him.”

“The fact that you can say ‘usually’ about that is a little worrying.”

“Maybe.”

 

It’s a couple days later when Jaebum pulls Youngjae aside, seeming to be genuinely concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’ve been really out of it lately.”

“Oh,” Youngjae mumbles, laughing it off nervously. It’s not at all helpful to making his next sentence sound convincing. “No, I’m fine.”

“Convincing.” Jaebum rolls his eyes. “If something is wrong you can tell me- us- you know?”

“Yeah I… I know.”

“Youngjae.”

“Later.”

“Fine, okay.”

Youngjae thinks, that’s proof of a theory he has. About the differences between Jaebum and Mark. Jaebum doesn’t leave things alone. Though he wont force Youngjae to talk about something, he also isn’t going to just leave it alone if he thinks something is wrong. It’s nice that he cares enough to try and make sure Youngjae is okay, but it’s also sort of difficult to deal with. When Youngjae can’t- or doesn’t want to- talk about something, being asked repeatedly might just end up irritating him.

“Youngjae?”

“Thanks.”

 

Youngjae had hoped, eventually, that something would stand out to put Mark or Jaebum above the other as someone he liked. It doesn’t happen though. They’re both good people, and they’re both people he cares a lot about.

He tries to ignore it, to pretend he doesn’t know or at the very least to not bring it up. Youngjae doesn’t really want to leave it alone, though. Pretending he doesn’t know doesn’t feel right. At the very least, the conclusion that tell them _something_ will give his what he feels he needs. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes a problem.

He likes them. Both of them. Youngjae truly has feelings for them both. With a noise of annoyance, Youngjae flops back onto his bed when he realizes that. “Why can’t the universe just let things be simple?”

“They hardly are.” Youngjae jumps at the voice. He hadn’t noticed that Mark was back, so the response startles him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Youngjae can see it on Mark’s face, that he doesn’t believe that. Mark sits beside him, and Youngjae sits up. “Mark…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you- If I-” Youngjae sighs, cutting off his own words. What is he even trying to say? Youngjae doesn’t know what he wants to say, but he’s already started speaking. Mark raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning Youngjae’s words, or lack thereof. “We’re… friends right?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“You know don’t you? Both… of you?”

“Oh.” Mark gives a small laugh and turns so he isn’t facing Youngjae. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Not… that specifically.”

“Okay?”

“But… you both know that I know. I don’t though. Know what I know in response, I mean.”

“I have to be honest with you here: I don’t know what you just said.”

“You know that I know.”

“Right.” Mark nods, then faces him again.

“But I don’t… um…”

“It’s okay.” Mark puts a hand on Youngjae’s shoulder and lightly squeezes it. “You’re over-thinking things.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.” Mark lets go of him and stands. “I have a project to work on, but if you need me I do live approximately ten feet away.”

“Thanks.”

 

Was he really over-thinking this? Youngjae realizes that he probably is. Every thought of his about his options, what would result from a choice, which is better suited to spend his time with, he’s over-thinking them.

Although those things are important, he’s not actually thinking about what he _wants_. Youngjae is telling himself that his thoughts are just being over-thought, but even more so he’s avoiding thinking about the most important thing. Logic aside, what did he actually want? Who did he actually want to be with? Which of them does he like more?

“I’m stupid.” Youngjae slams his pencil down in the middle of study hall. It’s not loud enough to get him in trouble, so he doesn’t feel embarrassed about his statement.

“Okay?” Jinyoung glances over at him, tilting his head. “Why’s that?”

“The situation.”

“Ah.” Jinyoung nods, not needing any further explanation.

 

As study hall ends, bell ringing, Youngjae stands to make his way to the cafeteria before deciding otherwise. He pauses, shakes his head, and makes his way over to Jaebum instead.

“Yo.” His voice comes out quieter than intended. Youngjae ignores this fact and throws an arm over Jaebum’s shoulders. “How are you?”

“Fine? Youngjae… are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He nods. It doesn’t feel entirely true, but Youngjae ignores that part of his mind. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

Once they’re a safe distance from prying eye and ears- also known as Jinyoung- Youngjae takes a few deep breaths and forces the words he want to say out of his mouth.

“I know.” Youngjae forces himself to look Jaebum in the eyes.

“Oh.”

“And I know that you- and Mark- know that I know.”

“Okay.” Jaebum avoids Youngjae’s gaze, and somehow that’s relieving.

“But I’m not sure… about myself, actually. So…”

“So?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Is this… a rejection?”

“It’s me saying I don’t know if I’m rejecting you!”

“Okay then?” Jaebum nods. “Well… yeah, okay.”

“Okay?”

“Let me know if you figure it out, then.” Jaebum shrugs, trying to play it off like he doesn’t mind. Youngjae can see, though, the mixed expression on his face. He feels bad, but Jaebum deserves to know that Youngjae is unsure, they both do. To know he isn’t just ignoring their feelings.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Come on then, we’re missing out on prime food time here.”

“No time is prime food time at this school.”

“True.”

 

Outside of teachers, Mark was the first person Youngjae met.

_“Um,” Had begun, clearing his throat, “excuse me?”_

_“Who are you?” Mark had looked up, confused. “And why are you in my dorm?”_

_“I-I live here now. I’m Youngjae.”_

_“Oh, I’m Mark.”_

_Mark had fully faced Youngjae, and Youngjae had gotten a good look at his roommate for the first time._

_“Nice to meet you.”_

_“Yeah.”_

Youngjae glances over the railing beside his bed, looking down to where Mark is busy writing something. It’s probably a report of some sort, Youngjae notes. When he thinks about it, a lot has changed since then. The realization hits him harder than he thinks it should have.

It’s not just between them, either. Youngjae has changed in general. Upon first arriving he’d stumbled over his greetings and been scared about how his life would go forward. He was nervous his roommate wouldn’t like him. Now, though, they’re friends. Youngjae doesn’t even consider feeling nervous talking to Mark, outside of the recent topic of their feelings.

Youngjae moves away from the railing, lays down on his bed, and stares up at the ceiling. Jaebum, on the other hand, he’d met while the other was in the midst of a conversation. Alongside all the people he has since come to be friends with.

_“So, introductions?” Jaebum had spoken, motioning to him. “I’m Jaebum.”_

_Jinyoung, too, had introduced himself, and Youngjae is pretty sure Yugyeom had spoken as well._

_“Youngjae,” He’d responded, laughing and sitting down next to Jaebum and Mark._

If Youngjae is honest with himself, he doesn’t feel like much has changed. Not in their relationship, at least. Now he knew more about Jaebum, and trusted him more. They talked more, were closer. Yet Youngjae doesn’t feel like much has changed. The way the speak to each other, the way Youngjae sees their friendship, hasn’t changed much.

It’s not a bad thing. Youngjae feels comfortable around Jaebum, so that can’t be a bad thing. Maybe, even, there had been changes Youngjae didn’t notice. Maybe the way they talk to each other has changed, without him noticing. The fact he doesn’t think so, though, says enough for Youngjae to realize something. How did he really view Jaebum? How did he view Mark, in comparison?

“Mark.” Youngjae isn’t really speaking too Mark, but hears Mark shift from the floor bellow.

“Yeah?”

“I like you.” Youngjae sits up, since they are already talking, he might as well say what he wants too now. There’s the sound of something- likely a pen- dropping once the words are out of his mouth.

“Oh. I, uh, I mean… that’s good?”

“Are you asking?” Youngjae can’t help the laughter that fall from his mouth, and he leans over the railing to look down at Mark.

“No. I mean, it is, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Does that mean…”

“Yeah, it does.” Youngjae doesn’t need him to finish the question to know what Mark is asking. The warmth he feels, by admitting to himself and Mark how he feels, makes him believe that this is okay. This choice is okay. “Hey, do you think your bed would break my fall if I go over the railing?”

“Aren’t you the one who told me that wouldn’t work? Hypocrite. Stay up there.”

“Fair enough.” Youngjae laughs, watching Mark make his way to the stairs. He turns his attention to the top of the staircase where Mark comes back into view.

“Now let me hug you.”

“I’ll consider it.” Despite his words, Youngjae opens his arms and they both laugh when Mark drops down next to him to accept the hug.

 

Youngjae feels bad. It’s not as if he can avoid Jaebum forever, and he told the other he would let him know when he’d made a decision. Still, it’s hard to tell someone that your rejecting them, especially when your last conversation included the words ‘I’m not rejecting you’ in it.

 _‘Good going, past Youngjae.’_ Youngjae thinks. _‘You screwed me.’_

“Jaebum?”

“What’s up?”

“I…”

“Oh,” Jaebum shifts, giving Youngjae his full attention. They’re the only ones at the table, thanks to Jinyoung ‘having something to do’ and the others not arriving yet. Youngjae traces patterns in the table to distract himself, before realizing that’s the opposite of what he needs to be doing. “This is an important thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t- I like- me and- uh-” Youngjae fumbles, all his planned words falling apart in front of him. He’d thought this over multiple times, to be sure he could say what he meant to. Yet he just completely forget all of it the second he actually needs to say them.

“Is _this_ you rejecting me?”

“Yes?”

“Well don’t say it like a question.” Jaebum sighs, frowning.

“Yes.” Youngjae nods. Biting his lip, Youngjae shakes his head to clear his thoughts so he can speak properly. “I’m sorry. I realized that I don’t- that I actually…”

“You like Mark?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he know that?”

“I told him, yes.”

“Okay.” Jaebum sighs again. “Congrats.”

Youngjae pauses. He’s not sure what he expected, but his own reaction tells him it wasn’t that. “Thank you.”

“Don’t give me that look.” Jaebum point accusingly at Youngjae’s face. “You’re rejecting me, don’t look sad. You’re supposed to make choices so that you’re happy. Don’t feel guilty, okay?”

“Okay.” Youngjae takes a deep breath, then smiles. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jaebum shakes his head then stands. “We’re friends, right? So I’m happy for you.”

“You… yeah.”

“I’m gonna go… do something,” Jaebum mutters, walking around the table and towards the exit. Youngjae can’t blame him, and turns to watch him leave. The others, he notices, are arriving. Jaebum throws his arm over Jinyoung’s shoulders and drags him away despite Jinyoung’s protests.

“But food!” Echos in the distance and Youngjae thinks apologies. _Sorry, Jinyoung._

“So, Youngjae, how are you?” Jackson grins at him, eyebrows wiggling as he sits down.

“I’ve been worse.”

“You okay?” Mark takes a seat beside him.

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Is he?”

“I… think so. At least he will be.” Youngjae nods to himself, words more to assure himself than they are to convince anyone else.

“He’ll be fine,” Jackson agrees.

“Besides, there’s more important question,” Kunpimook grins, trying to cheer them up, “like on a scale of one to ten: how cheese was your confession?”

“A ten, obviously. The cheesiest. What do you take us for?”

“Mark,” Youngjae raises an eyebrow at the response, “you asked me if it was a good thing when I told you I liked you.”

“They don’t need to know that.”

“But we do now,” Yuygeom laughs. “Nice going.”

 

A few weeks pass before anyone is comfortable enough about the whole thing to make jokes when Jaebum is around. In the end, Jaebum has to be the one to let them know it’s fine, by doing so himself.

“So, this confirms Youngjae is, in fact, the new uncle. Bambam was right.”

“Suck it, Jackson.” Kunpimook high-fives a reluctant Yugyeom.

“Darn.”

“I’m not helping you with teenage rebellion, Bam,” Youngjae says. Kunpimook, in turn, gasps in mock-offense.

“My dreams are ruined.”

“Suck it, Bambam.”

“Shut up, Jackson.”

“Hey, I’m older than you! Show me some respect.”

“Children, please. No fighting at the table.” Jinyoung hold up his hand, getting their attention as he speaks. “Grow up a little.”

“This is why we like dad more than you. Let us fight.” Yugyeom slams his hands halfheartedly onto the table. “Let us be immature!”

“Listen to your mother,” Jaebum adds, crushing Yugyeom’s dreams.

“Jaebum, why? How could you betray us like this?”

“I’m hoping agreeing with him will make Jinyoung forget I owe him money.”

“I’ll never forget.”

“This is why your kids like us more.” Mark only smiles at the glare Jinyoung sends him. “You know it’s true.”

“No, that’s because he makes them cry.” Jaebum pretends not to notice the glare shifting to him.

“We should report him. He’s a terrible mother.”

“Agreed.” Jaebum and Mark high-five, followed by Jinyoung throwing the left over bread from his sandwich at them.

“It’s okay, Jinyoung, I still like you,” Youngjae offers.

“Yeah, but I’m obligated to hate you because my kids like you more than me.”

“I’m heart broken.”

“So Jinyoung hates everyone?”

“Jaebum, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Youngjae laughs, watching the conversation continue like that. He’s happy, he concludes. This life, makes him happy.

_“People like me? What does that mean? Why would you do this?”_

Youngjae can remember not understanding why he was brought here. Remembers feeling betrayed and scared, thinking that he would hate it. The place, the people, how could it possibly be any different, any better, than what he was already doing? Being dragged away from everything he’s ever known, for something that he expected not to be any different, seemed cruel and horrible.

He’s happy, though. Youngjae is happy here, happy that he ended up here. These people are important to him. Easy to joke with, easy to talk to about serious matters, they’re nearly impossible to think about not having in his life anymore. How could he go back to being on his own after this? He doesn’t want to, wont be.

Jackson and Kunpimook argue jokingly over continued jokes. Jinyoung and Jaebum argue over which of them is the better ‘parent’. Mark adds comments, taking Jaebums side just to annoy Jinyoung. Youngjae watches, laughs, smiles, and feels happier than he thinks he ever had in the past. There are things he still worries about, sure, things he’s still not happy about. This place, these people, though, he’s happy to know. This is okay.

“You guys are the best, you know that?”

“Obviously.” Kunpimook grins.

“Some of us at least.” Jackson laughs.

“Wow, Youngjae. You’re full of cheese aren’t you?” Yugyeom smiles.

“We try.” Jaebum shrugs.

“You’re just trying to butter us up now, aren’t you?” Jinyoung smiles.

“Why’s that?” Mark raises an eyebrow.

“I was just thinking. I love you guys.”

“Full. Of. Cheese.” Yugyeom laughs when Youngjae mock-glares at him.

“I am full of cheese. I am the master of cheese. Leave me alone, my cheesiness is fine.”

“We love you too. Usually.” Jinyoung makes a vague gesture that Youngjae is pretty sure doesn’t actually mean anything.

“Always,” Mark says quietly enough that Youngjae is pretty sure only he hears.

“Gross,” Jaebum announces. “All of you.”

“Rude, I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“You don’t need to, Bambam.”

“Extra rude.”

Youngjae smiles. Yeah, this is nice, he thinks. If he could thank Helen of Troy for anything, it was making it possible for him to be here. To meet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, okay. So to start with, when I finished the original version of this, it was really emotional because It had taken a whole year to write. I, and my writing style, had changed so much that I got way more emotional that I probably should have over a fanfic lol. This rewrite clearly didn't take nearly as long, but i'm still emotional over it. Because i'm a giant baby in disguise ha.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's said nice things and left comments (because i love comments :D) seriously it means so much to me.
> 
> Sorry to anyone who wanted 2jae to be end game. Uh... there's always the guardian angel au on my tumblr? (shameless self promotion ha).
> 
> Upon originally finishing this a YugBam sequel was planned that I have yet to finish but will be a thing. There's also something planned with Jaebum and Jinyoung bc they're good friendstm (or something idk yet). But I'm not sure if I'll put them on AO3? I guess if someone wants me too I will, but I also don't know when I'll finish those.
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading! Thank you if you left kudos or comments! And I hope you liked this story.


End file.
